Home Sweet Home
by Amme Mahtal
Summary: After witnessing his father slap Miles, Hunter is hesitant to address his problems, like the recent fever he's come down with. Afraid his father will lash out at him, Hunter decides to keep his health a secret. His parents may be too oblivious to notice he's hurting, but a certain brown-haired girl could be the answer to all his problems. Requested by Coiewowie5. Enjoy!
Sore throat. Cough. Sneeze. Another cough. Another sneeze. Hunter was plagued with a disease, otherwise know as the fever. He had acquired symptoms the evening before, which had kept him tossing and turning all throughout the night. The young Hollingsworth couldn't seem to catch a break; yesterday he finally saw his father's true colors, pure evil. Mr. Hollingsworth had initially thrown a mug at Miles, but his older brother's expert ducking skills (which came out of nowhere) resulted in the mug being smashed on the other Hollingsworth brother instead (lucky him). That was shocking enough for Hunter, but his father had to take it one step further and _hit_ Miles.

Hunter had _no_ idea why he suddenly came down with such a virus. Could it possibly be the stress of the recent events? The fear of his own father, towering over his helpless children? He shuddered at the image. But more than anything, he wanted to know _why._ Why did their father behave the way he did? Sure, Miles wasn't the most level- ‐headed kid, but that didn't make it okay to lash out like that. _Hunter just didn't understand._

Sighing, the youngest Hollingsworth crawled back into bed, wanting to shut himself out from the rest of world. He didn't feel like dealing with anything today, _especially_ with his fever. He shivered slightly and pulled the covers over his achy body. He cringed slightly when his head hit the cold pillow but a few seconds later, Hunter was lost in a realm of deep sleep.

* * *

"Hunter?"

The brown- ‐haired gamer moaned. _Who was calling him?_ He groaned as he attempted to sit up comfortably.

"What?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes in a daze.

"Peanut, what are you still doing in bed?" his mother asked, standing by the doorway.

" _Mom_ ," he replied grumpily. "You know I _hate_ when you call me that!"

Laughing, Mrs. Hollingsworth said, "Right, sorry pea- ‐Hunter."

Rolling his eyes, the youngest Hollingsworth laid back on his bed, too tired to sit up. "Mom, I'm sick. Like bad. I think I might have a fever."

"Oh, poor sweetie!" she cried, instantly running to his side. She placed a hand over his forehead. Her eyes widened as she slipped her hand away. "Hunter, you're burning up!"

Hunter groaned and rolled over, too lazy to even respond.

"I better get your father. Miles!" she began to call. "Miles! Hunter is—"

Hunger froze when he heard his father's name. He gulped, the image of broken glass and bruised cheek still fresh in his mind. In a panic, Hunter sprung out of bed and cried,

"Mom! I'm fine, really!"

"But honey—"

"Don't bother dad. It's nothing!" he interrupted again.

Mrs. Hollingsworth looked at her son suspiciously. "Are you sure? You look awful."

Hunter looked down, too nervous to look her in the eyes; if she caught him in his lie face, well, then it would be all over. According to Miles, he and Frankie both have a "lie face" that easily gives them away. Hunter would usually scoff or roll his eyes when Miles caught him lying but now, this was serious. This wasn't about who ate the last slice of pizza or who lost the remote, this was about one of the most trivial things every high school kid goes through, faking sick to skip school. Except, in his case, Hunter really was sick, and he _did not_ want to skip school.

His mom was right though, he had looked better (and he certainly had felt better). Maybe he should just stay home…but staying home meant a greater chance of getting in his father's way which meant another outburst like yesterday and—well, Hunter didn't want to think of all the unpleasant scenarios he would find himself in if he crossed paths with his father, _especially_ after yesterday. It was decided.

"Yeah, I'm fine mom, really. I'll be okay," he said, giving his mom a small smile. "Besides, I have a really important history presentation I have to do," he lied, trying to sound convincing.

"Well, alright. Get yourself ready in 15 minutes. Breakfast is waiting."

As soon as his mom left his room, he flopped back on his bed, exhausted.

* * *

School was a struggle for Hunter, and his recent illness wasn't making it much better. He didn't have any friends really (except for Arlene but he was too nervous to talk to her most of the time). He spend most of his free time in the resource center, playing Realm of Doom on one of the school's computers. But today, Hunter didn't feel like video games. Instead, he could be found clutching his stomach from the chills, wiping sweat from his forehead, or painfully rubbing his aching shoulders and neck. The bottom line, Hunter felt like shit. Complete and total shit.

"Mr. Hollingsworth!"

Hunter groggily looked up at his surroundings. _How long had he been daydreaming?_

"Well? Can you answer my question?" Mr. Armstrong asked, his arms crossed impatiently.

"Huh?" the young boy said sluggishly, wiping the recent layer of sweater from his brow with his sleeve.

Several snickers arose as Mr. Armstrong pointed to the board and repeated his question, in a rather annoyed expression, "What does x equal in this equation, 9x+27=54?"

The gears in the young boy's brain quickly began to turn, trying to come up with the right answer. "Uh, 3?"

"Correct," Mr. Armstrong responded. He glanced at the boy before adding, "You don't look so good. Maybe you should go see the nurse."

Hunter looked around him, students were laughing and pointing as far as the eye could see. _Maybe I should get checked out. But if I do go, the nurse might send me home which means—_

"I'm fine, honestly sir," he said hurriedly, trying to draw the attention away from himself.

Mr. Armstrong shrugged and turned back to the board to continue the lesson.

"Alright class, let's look at page 149 in our textbooks…"

* * *

By lunch, Hunter was struggling just to walk; every fiber in his being was sore. He still had a scratchy throat, runny nose, AND COUGH. On top of that, he felt like his forehead was on fire while his stomach was freezing cold. He must of looked like a freak, practically limping through the hallways in pain, clutching his stomach while at the same time sweating excessively, constantly wiping his forehead. People stopped to stare at him but Hunter was too upset to care by this point. He just wanted to go home so he could lay down and die, but he know that wasn't an option. Sighing, he decided to go the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face.

However, by the time Hunter reached the restroom, he was on the his hands and knees from all the pain. The young gamer was not sure how much longer he could go without passing out. Sighing, he made his way to the sinks, slowly crawling his way foreword. When he reached the nearest one, Hunter clenched the sides of the white basin as a support for his limp body. He turned on the facet and let the cool, refreshing water hit his skin. When he was done, Hunter looked up and stared at his reflection; a tired and disheveled boy was staring back at him, his porcelain skin flushed from the heat his body was producing; dark purple rings underlined his bloodshot eyes; beads of hot sweat dripped down his cheeks; and of course, the very minute but still noticeable red cut, not even a centimeter from his left eye. He received this laceration when his father threw his coffee mug at him, the shattered remains shooting mostly off the tv, but a few found a way through his flesh. Hunter's breathe caught in his throat as the haunting scene came flooding back;

He remembered standing behind his brother, arms crossed in frustration, watching Miles and his dad go at each other's throats like chained dogs at the pound. Their voices were muted as the youngest Hollingsworth tried to tune out the unpleasant shouting between the two men whom he looked up to the most. One thing led to the next and before he know it, Hunter was cowering in fear, his hands formed into an X as an attempt to protect his face. The sharp edges of the broken mug had bounced off his head and lower back, some shards even reaching his fists, causing small blister- ‐like cuts to form. His dad's stammering apology had instantly caused him to whip up his head in fear.

" _As if you care who you hurt!"_

The words still rung in the young boy's ears as he looked away from the mirror, away from himself. Miles' bold response had shocked Hunter and was now causing him to rethink his previous choice of words. Maybe he had been too hard on his older brother. Hunter could tell Miles _really_ did care about his siblings; he was willing to fight their father if it meant defending him and Frankie.

When Miles had looked back at him briefly, he was too scared to say anything or even make a facial reaction. Hunter was frozen; he felt like he was in some kind of horrible nightmare, and something awful was happening but he couldn't move his legs out of pure terror. It was as if they were glued to the floor. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs but no sound escaped from his mouth. His eyes grew wide and he sucked in his breathe, quickly ducking his head in the opposite direction as he saw his father throw back his hand and hit his brother across the face. The only sound that could be heard was Miles' shoes clattering against the hardwood floor as he stumbled backward, his head turned away from their father.

" _I didn't mean to do that"_

"Then why did you?!" Hunter suddenly shouted. He quickly looked around him, panting heavily before realizing he was still in the bathroom. He groaned, slowly sliding his hand down his face in guilt. Yesterday, when Miles was trying to tell their mom about the fight, Hunter had blamed Miles for riling up their dad. He gasped. _I made it sound like I thought it was his fault dad hit him._ Hunter let out a small whimper at the thought, tears prickling the corner of his eyes. How could he have been so oblivious? How could he have been so _stupid?!_ The signs were right in front of him! But just like the rest of his family, he had ignored them until it was too late.

Suddenly, Hunter felt light- ‐headed. He blinked his eyes rapidly, his vision beginning to close in around him like a tunnel. The young boy struggled to stand as he felt all of his blood rushing from his head all the way down to his toes. Little black dots swarmed his vision, the corners of his sight slowly fading into black. He didn't even feel it when he hit the ground, not even the pain of his knees scraping the floor noisily. Everything blotted out and nothing mattered. All he could think of was the world crashing around him in a messy blur.

* * *

Hunter sprang awake, his eyes quickly darting around him. _What happened?_ He tried to sit up, only to moan in the immediate pain he felt in his head. _Is a headache even a symptom of having a fever or is the universe trying to kill me_ he thought to himself. He sighed. Maybe this _was_ the universe's way of telling him he should get help—he couldn't even remember _how_ he ended up on the floor. The young gamer groaned as he attempted to stand on his feet, his knees weak and trembling, threatening to buckle out from under him any second. Glancing at his phone, Hunter decided it was best to find Frankie—if there was anyone who loved to boss people around, it was his dorky twin sister, and her control- ‐freakiness might come in handy in order for him to recover.

* * *

Hunter quickly made his way through the hallways, once again ignoring the points and whispers. He just needed his twin; sometimes he felt like Frankie was the only one who fully understood him. Not even his older brother payed much attention to him. He sighed. But then again, Hunter didn't really make any sort of commitment to their relationship either. They _both_ needed to work on that.

"Watch where you're going freak!" a voice suddenly shouted.

"Huh?" Hunter asked, confused. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going. He looked up to see Zoe glaring down at him with her ice- ‐cold queen bee stare. Ever since the whole blackmailer thing, Hunter felt awkward around his former crush. Emphasis on former. Now that he had seen her true colors, he wanted nothing to do with her or her stupid squad. Not to mention she was the stuck up premadonna who bullied Frankie. Hunter just rolled his eyes and pushed past her, ignoring her shocked expression.

* * *

"Frankie!" Hunter cried, finally spotting his sister from across the caf. She quickly looked up at the sound of her name and, seeing it was her brother, rolled her eyes and pretended to be on her phone. Whoa, she did not look like she was in a good mood. The younger sibling shrugged; it was like Miles always said, "Frankie's a 15 year old girl, it's too be expected." However, Hunter frowned as he got closer, noticing she was sitting by herself. Didn't she have any other friends besides the dumb cheerwitches?

"Go away Hunter," Frankie said rudely as he took a seat next to her.

"What's your problem?" Hunter asked, offended.

Frankie rolled her eyes again, glancing at her twin like he'd just spoken pig Latin. "What do you think?" she said sarcastically, putting down her phone in annoyance. " I got blamed for something I didn't do and—" she paused, bitting her lip. "Dad didn't even care. He didn't even ask for my side of the story, he just assumed the media was correct and I had done all that horrible stuff."

Hunter looked at his sister, surprised she was being so honest with them. The two of them barely talked anymore, and it upset him that they weren't as close as they used to be when they were little kids. But he supposed that just a part of growing up, but that didn't mean they couldn't hang out sometimes or at least catch up like they were doing now.

"I'm sorry," Hunter murmured, quickly standing up to leave, his chair scraping against the floor. He suddenly didn't want to bother Frankie with his problems; he felt guilty and selfish for thinking only of himself when his sister had been hurting as well.

"Wait!" she cried, grabbing his wrist. "Are you okay?"

Hunter slowly turned to face her, his eyes glistening with tears.

"Oh my god, Hunter, what's wrong?!" his sister asked, worry etched in his voice.

The younger sibling looked around him, gesturing with his hands. "Everything, I guess?" he choked, unable to stop the tears from flowing.

Frankie frowned, she didn't like seeing her twin so upset. _What was wrong? Did something else happen at home that she didn't know about?_ Hunter had said their dad hit Miles, but maybe something happened with Hunter too… Frankie didn't know what, but she knew it couldn't be good, based on how Hunter was acting. Suddenly aware of the attention they were drawing to themselves, Frankie quickly whispered in Hunter's ear and gently put her arm around his shoulder, guiding him away from the states to somewhere more private.

* * *

Hunter was extremely gratefully for Frankie, not only for taking them somewhere were they could talk without feeling like their conversation was being broadcast to the entire school, but also because she actually cared, enough to risk her rep to help him. If this was any other day, Frankie would have laughed in his face and told him to deal with it and stop bothering her. But today was no ordinary day; Hunter's whole world had been flipped upside down in a matter of days.

"So, what's wrong, Hunter?" Frankie asked, her calm, soothing voice bringing Hunter out of his thoughts.

Hunter sighed. "It's kinda a long story," he replied worry.

Smiling, Frankie sat down on the bench behind the staircase and patted the empty seat next to her. "Tell Frankenstein all about it."

Hunter chuckled at the use of his sister's nickname she despised so much. She _really_ was trying to cheer him up. _Maybe he should just tell her…_

"Alright, it all begin when Miles and dad were arguing…" Hunter started.

* * *

By the time Hunter was done taking, both twins were crying. Frankie had gasped several times throughout the story, bitting her lip uncomfortably as Hunter's words rung in her ears. Watching her younger brother struggle to speak without choking up had eventually caused the young girl to cry in sadness for her both herself and her brothers. She only knew half the story, but she had no idea Hunter had gotten hurt as well. Not to mention the whole argument was about her, making Frankie hate herself. She had been so dramatic over a stupid high school drama. _How can something so stupid escalade to something so horrid?_

"So anyway, that's what happened while you were gone," Hunter concluded sadly, his eyes still wet from all the tears he had shed. "And I've been feeling really shitty recently," he added, turning to face his sister, finally accepting the fact that he needed someone to take care of him. 'Franks," he croaked, "I have a really bad fever; my forehead's burning up and I have the chills—and all the other cold- ‐like symptoms."

"Awh, Hunter," Frankie said sympathetically, wiping her tears with the back of her sleeve.

"We'll stay here as long as you need, then I'll take you home and look after you."

Hunter smiled at his sister. Sometimes she could be a real pain (like when she forced him to watch Dance Moms with her), but right now, she was all he needed, and that was good enough for Hunter. Being with his twin had almost made him forget his troubles. Almost. Stifling a sob, he leaned his head on her shoulder, resting it on the crook of her neck. Frankie noticed his embrace and wrapped her arm around his frail form, holding him close.

* * *

After awhile, Hunter had finally stopped crying, and stood up to go home with his sister. Frankie helped guide him through the school, placing a comforting arm around his shoulder; the young boy was still weak and faint from passing out. Trouble arose, however, when the twins got stopped by the receptionist:

"Where do you think you two are going?"

Frankie stopped dead in her tracks once she heard the old lady's voice. Bitting her lip, she turned to face the front desk, a million plausible excuses and explanations swarming in her head.

"Uhm, my brother isn't feeling well," she began slowly. "He has a _really_ bad fever and is feeling kinda faint so I'm just gonna take him home—"

"Miss, you need a parent or guardian to sign you out if you're leaving school property," the woman responded, glancing between the two siblings.

Hunter froze. That was _not_ what he was expecting to head. In a panic, he grabbed Frankie's hand in a death grip.

Frankie, sensing her brother's uneasiness, whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, I got this," she said, winking at him as she slowly let go of his hand and made her way to the front desk. The young girl took a deep breath, smiled, then said,

"Look, our parents are both at work and our older brother Miles is—" she paused. Miles had disappeared after he brought her and Hunter home from their food run after the fire. No one had heard from him since. Of course, their father didn't even seem to notice he was gone, and their mother, well, she assumed that he had been staying at Winston's. Frankie bit her lip, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for his absence. "He's out of town, for a- ‐a basketball tournament," she added hastily. _Do people even play basketball this time of the year?!_

"Well—" the receptionist started.

Desperately, Frankie added, "I have a free now, so it's not like I'm missing any classes. Please, he's really sick," she said, glancing at Hunter. He _really_ didn't look good.

The lady sighed. "Ok, I'll let you two leave. But only because this is a special circumstance, understand?"

"Yes, thank you!" she cried happily. Frankie practically ran back to Hunter. "We're outta here!"

* * *

The twins walked home together in silence, just grateful to be in ones company. Luckily for them, their house was only a couple of blocks away, and, as Frankie had guessed, their parents were not home. Hunter breathed a sigh of relief, for he knew if his father was home, he certainly wouldn't be pleased to see his kids home early when they were suppose to be at school.

"Home sweet home," Frankie murmured, smiling at her brother. "Want me to make you some soup?"

Hunter looked at his sister and nodded gratefully. She returned the smile and started walking towards the kitchen, but before she could, Hunter grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a tight

hug, nestling his face on her shoulder. Frankie returned the hug, grasping him tightly. Hunter got a whiff of her hair, the sweet scent of coconut and lilac soothing him as he whispered, "Thank you." And for the first time that day, Hunter felt safe in the arms of someone who loved and cared for him. He smiled. Everything was going to be okay.


End file.
